This is a book I have yet to read, but will soon, having (finally) finished The Brothers Karamazov this morning. I've read one Russian novel almost every summer since high school! War and Peace waits for me on the shelf above my bed at home. It's hazardous.
I'm at the library. My insides are making that unseemly sound that they always do when I drink coffee, which I did, at some random place on the road - in a forest - ok, I was lost - as I was driving around, looking for my wi-fi fix.
To Do This Week in Seattle: read, go to parks, read, try out this thing called running, read, look for a field of lavender, write a poem for a beautiful friend's wedding, read, tolerate dog-breath and Greta the German Shepherd, contemplate taking a ferry back to Bainbridge solely for the toast they serve, write you a letter, read.
It was thundering here, but not anymore.